Kieran's POV
Alistair's boots scraped against the floor as he instinctively moved back, two steps of retreat that betrayed the fear already clouding his eyes. His shoulders stiffened, his body trembling with that instinctive prey response
I didn't move. My feet remained where they were planted, shoulders loose, posture unyielding, unmoved and unfazed, as if the captain's presence was no more than a shift in the wind.
The captain's gaze locked onto me. His face was older, lined with years of war and bloodshed, but his voice carried the same authority that once echoed across battlefields. "You? I know you," he snarled, his eyes narrowing to a predatory gleam. "I've seen you before, from afar, in battle. About a decade ago." His lips curled, fangs peeking through. "Now you're grown, and I see your arrogance has grown with you. How dare you step into Crimson Hunt territory, Kieran Valerius Hunter?"
